


Indirect Kiss

by Silver_Centurion



Category: Transformers: Rescue Bots
Genre: Fluff, Food Sharing, M/M, Pocky Game, Treats, indirect kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 12:59:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5049535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Centurion/pseuds/Silver_Centurion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blades found a game online and he really wants to play with Heatwave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indirect Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Some cute fluff I wrote because I'm in desperate need for Rescue Bots.

“Have you ever even tried?”

“No, and I don’t want to.”

“But Heatwave,” Blades whined and stepped into the fire bots view.

Said mech grunted as he beat on his favorite punching bag, but regarded his teammate with a skeptical brow raise. “What are you a human child? Quit whining. I’m not playing your stupid game.”

Blades pouted, and held up the offending ‘game’ treats. “But I made them from energon and everything! Come on, just try it with me?”

Heatwave sighed, and stilled the swinging bag to turn and look at the youngest—acting—Rescue Bot.

“What’s the point anyway? Sharing treats? It’s disgusting,” he commented with a wave of his hand as his tanks rolled at the thought of two humans sharing food. “Who came up with this anyway? This, this….poke-ee.”

Blades puffed out his cockpit and huffed, “It’s pronounced pock-ee, first of all, and the Japanese humans made them. And you don’t _share_ them. In fact the point of the game is to **not** share it.”

Heatwave felt another skeptical brow raise coming on. This was pointless. How Blades always found such strange human toys, customs, and habits Heatwave would never know. Why Blades wanted to play this badly, Heatwave also had no idea.

Ex-venting in frustration, the red bot took a seat on his favorite shipping crate and used a large cloth to wipe the coolant from his brow. Frag he couldn’t look at those pleading optics. Blades probably didn’t know it, but Heatwave couldn’t resist those looks the helicopter was fond of giving him. The pouty looks, the angry ones, the…cute ones.

“How,” he started, but took the irritation out of his voice to continue, “how do you play?”

Blades perked up like a freshly watered daisy. That much enthusiasm could only spell trouble, but Heatwave had to admit that the flying bot was kind of endearing when he was excited. Not that he’d ever say such a thing aloud. He’d probably melt from embarrassment if he did.

The helicopter pulled up another crate and sat it close to the one Heatwave was on before taking a seat. Their knee joints brushed, and Heatwave thought his hat was going to fly off from the sudden electricity that jolted up his spinal strut.

“Okay, from what I gathered on the Human Internet, you take the treat,” he said holding up the glowing stick-shaped goodie, “and you put it in your mouth. Only a little bit though, and another person starts nibbling on the other end until either a) the treat is completely eaten, or b) it isn’t.”

Heatwave rested his elbow joints on his knees and gave another hearty ex-vent. “What do you mean ‘isn’t’?”

“Well uh…The instructions were very vague. I think you can’t break the stick and uh…I think the goal is to eat as much of the stick as possible without ‘sharing’,” the orange bot replied with a curious look.

“Leave it to humans to write half-afted instructions. Gimme that,” he grunted and swiped the treat. If he was going to play this ridiculous game it was going to be on his terms. He stuck the sweetly coated side into his mouth, and resisted the urge to just eat it. It actually tasted pretty good. What was in this? Magnesium? Frag he loved magnesium.

Around the stick he mumbled, “Okay get on with it so I can bet back to my workout.”

Blades looked eager and came closer. Suddenly having the ‘copter in his personal space made Heatwave anxious. The overwhelming urge to scoot away reared its head as Blades took his first nibble. He could feel the vibrations of the stick being broken, and it tickled his lip plates. Blades had closed his optics, probably a smart move, but Heatwave stared as Blades got closer and closer.

His venting picked up, and he could feel the energon rushing to his cheek plates. This ‘game’ was oddly intimate. It brought their faces so close that, within the last few inches of treat, he could feel the combined warmth of their exhaust.

Blades paused—no doubt in order to figure out how he was going to get that very last bit—before deciding o come at it from a tilted angle. As he took the last bit, Heatwave felt the barest of contact of their lips plates.

Electricity surged from the contact, down to his peds, and back to his burning cheek plates. His little piece of treat felt like lead as he hastily swallowed it.

Blades, however, seemed undisturbed by the contact and pulled back with a hearty giggle.

“That was fun! Wanna go again?” He asked leaning on his sitting crate.

Heatwaves intakes were swollen shut. He didn’t think he could answer. Thankfully, though, he didn’t have too. The alarm whined above them, and Cody’s voice was immediately over the intercom.

“Blades, there’s some skiers that need help down the mountain. Dani’s waiting for you up top.”

The helicopter pouted and whined, “Awwe….fine. I’ll be right there.”

Blades made for the elevator, but paused about halfway. “Oh and Heatwave? We’ll continue when I get back okay? I want a turn!” He chirped and ascended to the roof.

Heatwave felt his hydraulics hiss as they released the pressure he was holding in. He pried his servos out of his abused knee struts.

Boulders voice came from behind and he retensed his frame. “Heatwave what are—“

“I don’t wanna talk about it!!”


End file.
